CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Belle felt herself drift into consciousness. And then back out. The unfamiliar world around her was a blur, and random images seemed to float aimlessly in the pool of her thoughts, as though they were being viciously blown about by a storm.
A tap of her shoulder momentarily brought the young brunette back to the outside world, but after a second, she was completely lost. She could swear she could feel somebody—was it The Prince? – trying to look at her, dead in the eye, but she couldn't keep focus. Confusion blossomed in her heart as to where she was, why Quasi had brought her back here, to the Prince's estate. Why had he?!
To stare at the unfortunate bleakness of her new reality in the face. But for now, she rested her heavy head against a surprisingly soft pillow, wanting nothing more than to retreat into the wallowing darkness.
Though there was a horrible tightening on the column of her throat as it hollowed, and Belle let out a sigh, feeling her face welcome a struggle. Slowly, it tightened, and it felt as though she couldn't breathe. When her lungs itched and gave a twitch, heaving to cough, she reluctantly pried open her eyes and stared at dark pinpricks that were regarding her in the dimly lit room of…wherever 'here' was for Belle.
The disgusting horror loomed above her as the Prince eyeballed her. The last thing she remembered of last yesterday was how horribly sick she felt. And the sight that she could not tear her gaze away from now was currently causing her pupils to dilate, even in the darkness like this.
His hand hovered slightly over the delicate pale skin of the column of her throat, his slightly callused fingers wound around it like poison ivy creeping up a pillar at its petty face, though the pads of his fingers were light, though it did nothing to ease the queasiness in her stomach, the swooping sensation, or the shudder of revulsion and fear down her back.
No candles were lighted in the room and she slowly felt herself try to sit up, the room swathed in darkness and shadow, and Belle quickly realized it was futile as Prince Adam's darkened blue eyes burned bright like a midnight torch, flashing indignantly with anger, and Belle could clearly see in the man's orbs the strange sense of loathing that escalated, but…but...
But there was something else there: something that she could not quite identify, though she had seen the look in Quasi's eyes now plenty of times, something that Belle felt herself shiver for. A frustrated…desire.
For her. She gulped as she felt The Prince's left hand push the weight down on the pillow next to her ear, the left still wound around her throat.
Belle felt something hard press against her thighs and she frowned, quickly realizing it was the man's knees as they forced her thighs apart.
She bit down hard on her tongue hard enough to bleed and a chill traveled down her spine, and her fingers curled instinctively over her waist. Belle realized she was still dressed in the same dark blue gown from yesterday, though now it smelled strangely of lavender and eucalyptus. Her dress and her hands futilely shoving at his chest were the only barriers against The Prince.
"Ngh—get off of me!" she screamed, and she flinched at how hoarse and weak her voice sounded. "Get. Away," she snarled. She looked upon Prince Adam without a hint of disgust. His fingers wound around her throat forced even deeper, and Belle parted her lips open to trying to draw in air. "You—you can't be serious…"
Still, The Prince's fingers made no move off her neck. "There's no escaping this place. You are mine, Belle," he said simply, his deep baritone voice echoing in her eardrums.
Belle favored silence as an apt response, forcing her body to relax and emanating a tense exhale through her nose and closing her eyes, fully prepared to welcome Death like an old friend if that's what he wanted.
But it did not come. His fingers loosened their ironclad grip around her throat, and Belle felt a tense, tired release sending a breath of air to her much deprived lungs and she sat up in the bed, turning her head to one side as she coughed, one her hands wrapped around her pale throat.
Slowly, Belle sat up straighter and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Shadows danced in the dimly lit light, what little of it there was streaming from a light torch fire as it flickered. Cinders glowed against the hearth of a roaring fireplace where a bear pelt rug lay in front of it.
There was a slice of what looked like a piece of lemon cake and a tin decanter of dark red wine. She glanced down at the bed and her insides coiled and she let out a muffled yelp of surprise as a young woman with short blonde hair cropped as short as a boy's, was perched on the edge of her bed, caught her attention, a hand over her heart as it raced at the surprise.
The Prince noticed where she was looking and he frowned, roughly gesturing for the petite little blonde to vacate the room immediately
"That's Maria," he explained, his brows knitted together in a disapproving glower as he heard the pale creature whimper. "My…own personal hearth keep. She has been assigned to you. She is yours. She will get you whatever you want or need, you need only ask her, and it is yours, Belle. I should want the future wife and mother of our children to be quite comfortable here, wouldn't you say?" he commented, his languid voice as smooth as silk that sent a shudder down Belle's spine as she blinked once.
Belle dipped her head in acknowledgment, taking a seat in the chair across from him, keeping her head bowed and her gaze averted from him, not wanting at all to look her savior in the eyes, knowing sooner or later that she would have to. "Why did you save me, Prince Adam?"
Lies, lies, her conscience tormented. He's trapped you here and you know this. Monster. A beast.
Oh, she knew all too well what The Prince was. But if there was a slim chance playing along with his delusions of grandeur and pretending to be interested in the Prince would keep her alive that much longer until Quasi came for her and took her away from this place, then she would indulge in it, and right now, the man needed to think of himself as her savior, as her own personal god. She shuddered and bit the inside wall of her cheek, waiting in silence.
The Prince frowned. "I already told you my reasons behind my actions yesterday, though you were still asleep, so I guess I have to repeat myself. I cannot allow your bloodline to become further tainted by allowing you to spend the remainder of your days with a filthy, disgusting disease-ridden demon like that creature. You could do so much better. You have me now, isn't that more than enough for you?" he spat, crossing one leg over the other and pouring himself a goblet of wine, not caring the uncomfortable glances Maria was shooting Belle. "Maria here will pour you some of our finest wine if you should like," Prince Adam announced coldly. "And then she will return to the kitchens, won't you, darling?" Prince Adam growled, no semblance of warmth in his voice.
Belle swallowed past the lump in her throat at Prince Adam's words. She caught Maria's gaze and one of her eyes gave a twitch, though if she wasn't mistaken, and about these things she usually wasn't, the briefest flickers of hope darted through the young woman's blue eyes, and she felt herself inhale sharply, wondering if she could trust the new maid.
The petite little blonde was trying silently to communicate with her eyes, somehow, that she was going to be fine, but then something Prince Adam had said caught her attention. Wait. Yesterday.
That meant she had slept for an entire evening when she had passed out, and she had no idea where she was, and one glance over at the young lord's servant, the golden-haired maid was enough.
The girl was livid and was regarding Belle with what she could only perceive as animosity and a fierce hatred in those fiery blue orbs of hers. Belle swallowed nervously.
She hoped her eyes did not betray her nervousness or fear. Belle sighed, the tiniest of gasps escaping her as she allowed the girl to pour her a glass of wine. though she knew better than to drink it.
He's probably poisoned it. Drugged it. Don't drink it, she could hear Quasi's voice ringing in her ears, and suddenly, she wished he were here.
"Thank you, Maria," she whispered, lowering her voice so that only the young maid could hear her. "I promise…" Promise what? The voices inside her head taunted. To help her escape her life of servitude from a horrible master?
Suddenly, Belle felt quite guilty, not really certain what she had hoped to gain by attempting to try to speak to the girl in private.
Was it to reach Maria? To ask her questions of the Prince? To demand she help her escape if there was even a shred of kindness in her tiny little body? Belle herself did not know the answer, nor did she have time to ponder it as the young blonde maid called Maria mumbled something incoherent under her breath in a high-pitched, breathy little squeak and scampered away before Belle had a chance to say anything else.
The clearing of Prince Adam's throat as he demanded the young woman's attention jolted Belle out of her musings of what exactly had happened to the hearth keep during her time here with the Prince and back towards him, as he demanded it. His cold gaze was fixated upon her, completely unreadable.
Seeing him face-to-face like this, in daylight, though whatever study they were in was rather dimly lit, left yet another impression on Belle. He seemed a much more solid figure than before.
All except his blue eyes devoid of warmth. Those seemed never to change, and Belle doubted they would.
Belle let out a yelp as the sound of a clanging behind her echoed throughout the room. Maria had dropped the wine flagon on the floor, spilling it onto the stone floor.
Prince Adam didn't bother to stifle the low warning growl that escaped from his throat. His expression turned murderous as he rose from his chair and strode towards Maria, seizing fistfuls of the maid's uniform, and shaking it.
"You must be actively seeking new ways to test my patience, Barreau," Prince Adam growled, the tip of his nose practically touching poor Maria's slender little nose. "Clean that up, and be quick about it, or I'll cut off another finger." His deep voice was painfully bitter as he towered over Maria.
"Y—yes, M—Master," the maid-stammered in a nervous squeak.
"Don't! It was an accident," retorted Belle hotly, rising from the bed and moving to stand protectively in front of the maid, holding an arm out in front of Maria as though she thought that might prevent the man from lashing out in anger. "Do not blame the girl, Prince Adam, for you are the one who makes her so nervous she can barely hold the flagon steady," she snapped, her dark brown eyes flashing indignantly with anger. "Your hearth keep, servant or not, does not deserve the cruelty you put her through, nor what you say. If anyone should apologize for what has transpired here, it is you."
Belle dipped her head, allowing a curly lock of her hair to fall in front of her eyes and acting as a sort of barrier between herself and his gaze as Prince Adam turned his wrathful gaze towards her, wanting nothing more than to put a quick end to this conversation, though she sensed this beast still wanted to discuss himself.
If it keeps you alive, do whatever you can. She could swear she could hear Quasi's sweet, tenor-like tones talking to her, and she emanated a tense and shaking breath. Prince Adam, however, was having none of it.
Ignoring Belle as if he found her forced pleasantries a bore, he moved away from his place and relinquished his hold upon Maria, though not before shoving the tiny creature backward so violently that she tripped.
"Very well. You're fortunate, Maria. I…wish to speak to you in my private chambers later at eight. Clean that up and get out." His voice was clipped and hard, the last vestiges of his patience tested.
"Y-yes, M-Master," Maria whispered hoarsely, getting on her knees, as she hastened to clean up the spilled red wine off the floor, which normally would have sent Prince Adam's blood ablaze as new thoughts of cruelty to impart would have flickered through his mind now only sent waves of revulsion to his mind and Prince Adam was forced to look away as he looked at Belle.
"I am…grateful that you are awake. You've been asleep an entire day, had been going on two, before you finally decided to wake up," Prince Adam announced, smirking at her. "I was beginning to worry after you, sweet princess."
Belle blinked owlishly at the man; her mouth slightly agape in shock. Registering the dumbfounded expression on the young witch's radiant, beautiful features, Prince Adam reacted by smirking in an almost intimate manner, as if he were enjoying some private joke with himself.
He lifted the rim of his cup to his lips and drank heavily, all the while never once taking his glance off Belle, carefully studying her facial expressions over the rim of his goblet, scrutinizing her reactions.
Prince Adam's lack of response irked Belle, and she began to feel a little nervous.
Why had he brought her here, to suffer in his company, so what on earth did he want with her now? Was he just toying with her, to coax more feelings of guilt to the forefront of her mind, to make her feel grateful that he had, what, somehow 'saved her life,' according to him?
Noting his continued silence as he poured himself a fresh goblet of wine and drinking, Belle began to feel agitated.
If Prince Adam wanted something of her, why did he not just come outright and demand it?
Was he still pursuing her, was that it? Though Belle had thought she'd made her feelings towards him quite clear and plain to him.
"Is there something that you wish of me, Prince Adam?" asked Belle, lifting her chin slightly to meet his gaze, unable to play along with the insufferable man's antics any longer. "Why am I here with you?"
The harsh bark of Prince Adam's voice rendered her frozen, rooted to her chair, and unable to move, though she wanted nothing more than to bolt for the door at his response.
"Because I wish for you to be here. It…pleases me to look at you, Belle Dupont. You will make a good company, in time, and a good wife. I have brought you here in pursuit of that urge which until now has remained silent, but I know you are lying to yourself about your desires."
He curled his fingers into claws and raked them over the fabric of his armchair and bared his teeth. So that was what he wanted of her, then. Belle bit her bottom lip in a slight pout, feeling the all-too-familiar spark of hot anger welling like a fire-seed planted by a dragon in the pit of her stomach, as it had whenever she was around men who displeased her.
" Now, here you are…no second thoughts. It was your decision to come here, was it not? I did not force you. You needed a doctor's care, I provided that for you, little dove," he breathed, and Belle could hear the hitch in Prince Adam's cold tone.
At least now she knew where she was.
He had taken her back to the estate. But did Quasi know what happened? Did anyone else know what happened, for that matter?
She highly doubted it. Letting out a concentrated but slightly shaking breath, Belle lifted her chin and leveled her gaze as she did her best not to quirk her brows in a sarcastic manner, which would not help her in this situation right now.
Prince Adam must have appeared to enjoy this since he smirked. "What you did the other night, was…inexcusable, yet, here we are."
His nonchalant gaze now turned towards Belle as he set his cup down and with surprising speed like a panther that had eyed and stalked its prey, he bolted from his chair and crossed the room and leaned down slightly, closing off the gap of space between them. He was leaning in close enough for her to kiss him if she was of a mind to try such a thing.
To that, she could not seem to formulate a response.
"Why is it that you think…that I have not killed you yet?" he growled, his icy cerulean gaze turning intense as he stared deep into Belle's brown eyes.
She felt like she was being questioned and yet at the same time, Belle was aware that the Prince, for reasons unknown to her, actually seemed to be listening to her. Strange. She was led to believe in him that his only interest in women was to seduce them and bed them.
He remembered. Belle did not know how she felt about him remembering her words in the corridor.
Still, she answered as steadily as she could. "You need me."
There was a pause before Prince Adam continued. The intensity in his eyes seemed to soften, and it was replaced by something unreadable, something vague which Belle could not discern, and she hated it.
"Why?" he breathed, and Belle gulped as his blue eyes widened. "What is to stop me from disposing of you once you've…fulfilled your purpose?" Prince Adam growled, and Belle flinched but did not dare avert her gaze from the man holding her captive, not even when he lifted a finger and caressed her cheek, almost tenderly brushing back a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Hmm?" he crooned, still continuing that infuriating behavior of trailing the pads of his fingers along her collarbones, which sent a surprising tingle of heat throughout her body, warming her.
"Milord, I…" She hissed as the pads of his fingers came to cup her chin.
He was mocking her. "Tell me." His tone was curt and hard.
Belle swallowed nervously, hating that she had to lie through her teeth and pretend to go along with whatever Prince Adam was planning, but if it was the only way to save her life, then by God, she would tell him whatever he wanted to hear if it meant that she might live to see another day.
"Because like it or not, Your Highness, I am your key to this place, from what you've said in conversation. And should you wish to maintain your hold on it? You need me alive. And you need an heir of noble blood, a firstborn who might remove some of the… stains on your family name."
She gulped and bit her bottom lip in hesitation. A bold response, but she had managed to piece together the missing pieces the day in the library when Darius had stopped by and asked after her well-being following the Prince's encounter with her, it was that it had taught her that it could do a world of good to stay silent and listen to the gossiping...
A muscle in Prince Adam's jaw twitched, and he looked…rather curious. "You have such a low opinion of yourself, Belle?" he asked.
"No." Her voice came out sharper than she would have liked, a tone of impatience lacing into her normally kind and shy tone. Why was he asking her all of these questions, or for that matter, speaking to her at all?
He should just take what he wanted of her right now. Perhaps there was a part of Belle that had foolishly believed that after the first encounter, he would simply assault her, kill her and be done with her. She almost—almost—would have preferred that.
Anything but this, to remain his prisoner, locked up until he might have use of her. Now, something about Prince Adam's presence was putting her on edge.
"You feel as though I am treating you unfairly here, don't you?" Prince Adam spat, leaning down even further. Belle shirked back into her own armchair as far as she could, until her back pressed against the edge of the chair, and the tip of Prince Adam's slender nose touched hers. "Don't you?" he repeated, his tone going dangerously soft and quiet.
Belle would have preferred it if he would have shouted. She tried her hardest to fight back her honesty but found she could not. "Yes—"
Prince Adam growled, curling his hands into fists over Belle's wrists, effectively pinning her to the chair. She was completely at his whims.
"Well, my darling, let me tell you a useful truth so that you do not set yourself up for disappointment. Life is pain. You want more, I can tell that much, but life is unfair. It's people who are the monsters. People like my own father. Like your husband. Your precious bell ringer."
Belle blinked as Prince Adam's mouth twisted into a sneer. His tone was bitter, though his speech cut like a dagger plunged straight in her heart. He did not sound as though he enjoyed spewing such a venomous stream of dark thoughts to her. Belle frowned as he looked away, down towards her lips.
Feeling a surge of panic course through her veins, Belle began to speak rapidly in response, her eyes cast downward at his boots.
"I cannot offer you an adequate enough response, Prince Adam, because our conversation has strayed too far," she began hastily. "The—the only reassurance I can offer to you is that my…reaction, the way I behaved toward you in the—in the cathedral the other day, will not happen again."
Prince Adam sneered, baring his canines. His smile was wolfish, predatory. He leaned in further and Belle was surprised when his lips pressed against hers. "There it is again. That look. You called me the other night a monster. A beast. If that is what you think of me, then so be it," he growled. "Oh, my darling…You are much mistaken if you should think that you have any hope of freedom in this place. You're mine, Dupont. No one else's."
His powerful hands relinquished their grip on her wrists and landed on her waist, and his strong fingers came to grip painfully tight on her wrist. "You still must be punished for your actions the other night, little dove," Prince Adam growled, and his lips clamped down hard on hers, hard enough that she could taste the welling of blood on her bottom lip. "You escaped from me once, it won't happen a second time."
"What…?" Belle let her mouth drop open in shock as Prince Adam straightened his posture, as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"You'll see. I think you're going to be quite happy as my wife, my princess, Belle," grinned Prince Adam, flashing her that disarmingly charming white smile that did nothing to mask the anger that lingered in his blue eyes. "You aren't going anywhere that I don't want you to, little dove. You are mine to do with as I please. I think I like you, so I'll keep you. Just…close your eyes and pretend I'm him. Your precious husband can't save you from me," Prince Adam said and threw back his head and laughed, and it was…evil.
Belle was well and truly trapped here in this place. Her heart sank as she watched Prince Adam stride out of the room, hearing the locking of the deadbolt behind her, and Belle knew he would not have been careless enough to leave a pin or anything with which she could pick the lock.
Belle heard his pounding footsteps slowly disappear down the corridor, and she turned back to see that the door was closed, locked.
Making a beeline straight for the door, she tried to force it to open, her bare hands pushing against the rough surface of the door, which was cracked and weathered with age. It was all in vain. The door stood stubbornly in its place.
There was not even a viable window in this room, save for the one over by the fireplace's hearth, and if she broke that, Prince Adam would hear, and then she would be dead, as the man would kill her without so much as hesitating. A shudder ran through her.
Trapped. "I'm trapped," she whispered to no one in particular. She was well and truly confined within the walls of this very room.
Suddenly, she felt claustrophobic.
A metallic smell hung and lingered in the air, almost rendering it suffocating and it became difficult to breathe. It reminded her somewhat of the smell of dried blood, and for a moment, Belle found herself wondering if she was the first person Prince Adam had brought to this place, where his prisoners lived, or if she was the first.
The room was pitch dark, and she had no choice but to huddle back into the same corner, wrap her arms around her knees, and pray that someone—anyone—would find her before it was too late for her.
She was going to die here if she could not think of a way to save herself.
Quasi, wherever you are, I hope you hear me. I'm running out of time.
Belle begged silently, praying that somehow, wherever he was, her husband heard her prayers, and was coming, biting down on her bottom lip.
Hurry.